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by mxndoscyarika



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Reader-Insert, The Mandalorian (TV) Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28230096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mxndoscyarika/pseuds/mxndoscyarika
Summary: Din comes home with a new addition to the family.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin & Reader, Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 73





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**Author's Note:**

> This story is also available on my Tumblr (@mxndoscyarika)! Hope you all enjoy the story.

The Razor Crest was silent as it approached the planet of Garamonde, a planet with lush green forests spattered with some of the most advanced cities in the system. As they entered the atmosphere, Mando picked up the child and placed him on his lap. “You ready to meet someone very special, ad’ika?”

Large dark eyes looked up at him curiously. 

“You better behave once we get down there,” he teased. “Ok?”

The child smiled and let out a coo.

\---

“The mines will cease operation for the time being,” you declared, seated in your throne. “It’s no longer safe for the workers. Many jobs in the development sectors will open as we continue to develop more energy efficient devices; we’ll transfer them as appropriate.”

In front of you stood royal advisors, each carrying datapads with reports on various sectors. Although they were capable of handling everything with little input from their queen, you had made it a point during your time as ruler to remain as involved as possible.

The most recent problem seemed to be the state of Garamonde’s mines. The increased snow over the recent winter meant much more snowmelt once the weather warmed up. Mines set up near the base of the mountains were at risk of being covered by mudslides and collapsing.

“But our exports-”

“Will be fine,” you reassured. “We have much more to offer than metal, and we have a duty to protect and support all workers. This is not up for debate.”

“Yes, your majesty,” they all said in unison, bowing.

Standing up, you said, “Well I guess that settles things. You’re all dismissed.”

Your gown of purple and gold flowed behind you as you strode down the hall, guards trailing slowly as usual. You never quite understood why you needed protection in your own palace.

“Your majesty!” a voice called out. You turned around to see it was Javonor Talbri, one of the advisors who’d brought up an issue with taxation. “I have the reports you wanted on this datapad. Would you like me to give them to you now, or-”

“Leave those in my study,” you quipped, continuing to walk once he caught up. Just a few more feet, and you’d be free of all the formalities and gowns “I’ll go over them later.” 

“O-of course, your majesty,” Talbri replied, gripping the tablet tightly.

“I’ll be sure to have a look soon,” you said absentmindedly, entering your chambers. Closing the door on him, you finished, “For now, I have other things to attend to.”

“Of course, your majesty! Forgive any pressure I may have put upon you. I simply just-”

Sighing, you pressed a button on the control pad by the door, which blocked any sound from entering your room. Talbri was dedicated and competent, but he never  _ shut up _ .

The first thing that came off was the large pin holding together your hair and jeweled headpiece. Even after years of wearing heavy headpieces and hairstyles, you never quite got used to them. At least, not enough for them to be comfortable.

You then changed into some soft pants and a long-sleeved top, both made from stretchy but durable fabric. Stiff heeled shoes were exchanged for worn-in boots with quiet soles. Digging through your wardrobe, you found your favorite cloak, a remnant of a visit to Nevarro. Well, before all the commotion began. Thankfully, it had died down since then.

In less than half of an hour, you were standing by a blue lake. Trees surrounded you, towering high and providing shade for the warm day. Spots of light littered the forest floor, much like how the buildings in the kingdom glittered during sunset. It was peaceful, but something was missing. 

You inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, trying to calm the nagging in the back of your mind. Where was he? Did he make it out of Nevarro?

The snap of a twig behind you sends your reaching for your blaster, pointing it in the direction the sound came from. This forest wasn’t known for harboring dangerous creatures, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Hey hey hey don’t shoot, it’s me!” a modulated voice shouts. It’s Mando, and he’s got one hand flung out, the other occupied with a bundled up...blanket?

Letting your arm drop, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and placed your blaster back in its holster. You took him in, as if the mandalorian standing there could’ve been a figment of your imagination. 

Fallen leaves and twigs crunched under your feet as you ran into the mandalorian’s arms, nestling your face against his neck. He still smelled like leather and the metal of the Razor Crest. The only difference was that he had new armor. Yes, finally, your Mando had come home. It was your Din. You pulled away. “I should shoot you for not sending a message to me for the past three months. Where have you been?”

“I’m sorry, I had some business to take care of,” he replied, holding you close. Well, as close as he could with the child on his other arm.

“You didn’t come home,” you murmured, placing a hand on the side of his helmet, where his cheek would be. “I was so worried. I flew all the way out here and waited for you. You never came.”

“I-I know,” he said, voice strained. “It’s a long story.” The bundle in his arms squirmed a little, drawing his attention back to it. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet, cyar’ika.”

You gasped softly as the child poked its head out of the blanket, big eyes looking around at everything. The sky, the trees, Din, and you. Your heart melted as it smiled up at you and reached out. Tucking yourself to his side, you asked, “Is this what kept you away for so long?”

He nodded. “It was one of my bounties. But it’s just a kid. I couldn’t live with myself if I turned it over and walked away. So I broke it out and we’ve been on the run since.”

You frowned. “But your creed...that means it’s...”

“It’s a foundling in my care,” he answered. “And according to the creed, I’m its father now.”

You laughed softly, stroking the child’s ear with a finger. “I never thought I’d see the day that the big bad Mandalorian settles down with a baby of his own.”

“Neither did I,” he replied softly. He looked down at you, taking in your smile and the child’s newfound fascination with your jewelry. “But here we are.”

There you were, indeed. You and Din had discussed having your own children before, but recent years left both of you stranded in your own ways. Transitioning into being a queen had drained you mentally and physically, and Din’s occupation didn’t leave much room for settling down.

“You could stay here,” y/n offered. “This place is pretty well hidden, and in all our years of coming here, no one has followed us.”

Din sighed and pressed his forehead against yours, keeping you close with a hand on the small of your back. Even through all the layers, you could feel his warmth against your spine. 

“I wish I could,” he said, voice breaking. “But I can’t put you in danger by staying here longer than a few weeks at a time. Not until I know for sure that no one is after our ad’ika.”

Humming, you asked, “Our?”

“Yes. Unless you don’t want it? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just sprung it on you-“

“I’m just teasing, cyare,” you interrupted, pressing a kiss to the side of his helmet. You reached over and let the child grab onto your finger. Smiling, you continued, “I always knew you had a soft spot for foundlings. Remember when you gave me that idea to reform the foster care system?”

“Every child should have a home they can return to,” he rasped, looking down at the child in his arms. “Even if they’re not related by blood.”

“Well, this foundling is very lucky to have you.” Noting the setting sun, you added, “We should get inside, you must be tired.”

The cottage was small, but it was enough for both of you. No amount of luxury or extravagance could replace the intimacy of living with loved ones. Din immediately spotted the satchel of cooking ingredients sitting on the counter, no doubt containing everything needed to make tiingilar, a traditional mandalorian casserole dish. You knew what your riduur’s line of work entailed, and home-cooked meals were few and far between. So, you and Din had eventually formed your own tradition of cooking a meal together whenever he returned to Garamonde. The only difference was that, this time, you would be joined by the child.

You still couldn’t quite wrap your head around the thought of it; that is, the fact that your Din now had a child of his own. Did that mean you would be as its mother? Or would the lack of marriage vows mean you would simply be an outsider to his new clan?

Once the food was ready, you two would sit back to back, a way of dining together while respecting Din’s religion. Until you and he were officially wed, you were forbidden to see his face. Part of you was disappointed at that, because you didn’t know how long it would be until you and Din were married; if you would ever have the chance to at all. But above all else, you respected him, and understood the gravity of the exceptions he already made for you. Sitting back to back while eating? He didn’t have to do that; he’d had to take his meals in isolation pretty much every day. But for you, he risked having his face seen. All so you could savor each other’s presence for as long as possible. 

As you ate, you could hear the child’s squeals of joy and Din’s soft chuckles coming from behind you. He would say something in mando’a and imitate the sound of a speeder before feeding the child yet another spoonful of tiingilar.

“Your mother is a great cook, isn’t she?” he mused, mostly to himself. You were glad he couldn’t see you, because you felt your cheeks burn hotter than the two suns.

When it came time for the child to sleep, you two gathered blankets and pillows to line a woven basket. “I’ll have a proper bed made for him once I return to the palace,” you said quietly, not wanting to disturb the drowsy baby. “But this will work for now. Cuun ade je morut’yc.” 

_ Our child is safe. _

“Cuun ade je morut’yc,” Din repeated, his heart swelling with affection when you claimed the child as yours.

After washing up and taking off his armor, he slid under the blankets, lying on his back. The sheets rustled as you followed him onto the bed shortly. Although you both couldn’t see, you easily fell into comfort. His presence was familiar and soothing as you practically melted under his touch. You could feel his entire body relax underneath you, weeks of tension leaving him.

“You should stay,” you said softly, head resting against his chest. He was so warm and gentle, a stark contrast from the beskar armor he donned. “It’s safe here. You and ad’ika would have my entire military’s protection.”

“Even if we didn’t have our ad’ika, you know I wouldn’t be able to,” Din said, his unmodulated voice sending shivers down your spine. “Your people wouldn’t approve.”

Lifting your head to face him, you asked, “Do you really think they won’t approve?”

You cradled his face in your hands, tracing the stubble lining his jaw. The curtains in the bedroom were drawn closed to block out any light, giving Din the safety of removing his helmet. Your thumb pressed lightly against his plush lips, feeling his warm breath against your fingertip. Kissing him between each word, you pondered, “Do you really think they’ll disrespect their queen’s choice? Disrespect their king and their child?”

Din groaned softly, his hands wandering south. One arm remained secured on your hip while the other pressed you against him, sliding under your shirt. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Me as your king, and ad’ika as our heir.”


End file.
